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Diana, having patronized the woman’s shop for years had the upper hand in the negotiations. She also mentioned that the new Lady Amelia Rose would be in dire need of an entirely new wardrobe and, of course, they would consider no one else except the talented Madame Moreau to supply it.
With less reluctance than when they started, Madame Moreau had Amelia try the gown on, and declared with minor adjustments it would be ready in time for her wedding.
“Come and sit here, Miss and I will fix your hair.” Emily pulled out the chair in front of the dressing table. Amelia sat and studied her face. In a few hours she would be Lady Amelia Rose. As the daughter of a marquess she would keep her honorific.
Her life would be everything she had thought it would be as a young girl growing up, but very different from what she had expected only a couple of months ago.
Driscoll.
She loved her soon to be husband with all her heart. She’d been holding back from him because of her secrets and the fear of what Driscoll would do if she confessed all. She should have known that her soon-to-be husband was not the sort of man who would see her used in such an indecent manner by her stepbrother, regardless of Randolph’s status as her guardian. Because of her lack of trust in Driscoll, she almost ended up exactly where she had fled from.
“Oh, my goodness, you look beautiful!” Diana swept into the room, dressed in a lovely rose satin gown. She extended her hand to Amelia and helped her rise. “You have a very nervous groom downstairs, checking his timepiece every two minutes.”
“Am I late?” Amelia asked.
“No. He’s just anxious to make you his wife.” Diana placed her hands on Amelia’s shoulders. “I am so happy we will be sisters. I’ve always wanted one. You are marrying a fine man. I’ve known Driscoll most of my life. He will make you a wonderful husband.”
Amelia smiled. “I am certain he will.”
“Ah, you love him,” Diana whispered.
“Yes. I do.”
Diana eased her arm into Amelia’s and moved her forward. “Then let’s go save that poor man downstairs from any further angst.”
The ceremony itself was almost a blur to Amelia. The line she remembered best was Driscoll’s strong words as he held her hands and stared into her eyes.
With this ring I thee wed; with my body I thee worship; and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
Once they were announced as husband and wife, Driscoll leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I love you, Lady Amelia Rose.” He then followed with a kiss that had the vicar clearing his throat and the few guests present chuckling.
The wedding breakfast followed, with the three Rose brothers, Diana, and staff members from The Rose Room, drinking champagne and wishing them well. Betsy and Margie were especially giddy at the romance that grew right under their noses.
Amelia looked around at the gathering and then turned to her new husband. She thought of how happy her mother and stepfather would be if they here today to share her joy.
“Is everything all right? You looked sad for a minute.” Driscoll clasped her hands and eyed her with concern.
She offered him a bright smile, one filled with the happiness he brought her. “Yes, my love. Everything is fine. Just fine.”
Epilogue
“I don’t understand why you won’t let me help you. You’re being foolish.” Amelia sat on the settee in their drawing room, her back stiff, her arms crossed over her middle, glaring at her husband.
Driscoll ran his fingers through his hair. As much as he loved his wife and was immensely happy with his married state, he feared he would be bald before long, with the way he kept tugging at his hair. No one had ever explained to him how frustrating females could be at times. If not for his occasional visits with Hunt who assured him Amelia, much like his own wife, Diana, was quite normal for a woman, he would view his wife as if she were possessed.
He sat alongside her and took her hands. “Sweetheart, let me repeat myself. Again. You cannot deal cards at the club. You are my wife. It is not proper for you to be out and about in your condition. You are seven months pregnant and can’t be on your feet for any length of time.”
“I don’t care about propriety.”
He shook his head no.
“I can sit on a chair.”
He shook his head.
“I can take breaks.”
He shook his head.
